


You Are Broken On The Floor

by Cuppa_Char



Series: Someone Adopt This Boy Immediately [2]
Category: Outer Banks (TV)
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Gen, Heyward acting as JJ's parental figure, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Torture, Panic Attacks, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Rape/Non-con Elements, Shoupe acting as JJ's parental figure, Torture, acting sheriff shoupe
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-06-29
Updated: 2020-06-29
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:15:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,195
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24985927
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Cuppa_Char/pseuds/Cuppa_Char
Summary: Shoupe finds JJ two days after Heyward reported him missing. Four days after he’d been taken.---Deputy Sheriff Shoupe and Heyward acting as JJ's parental figures and dealing with a post tortured JJ.
Relationships: Heyward & JJ (Outer Banks), JJ & Deputy Shoupe, JJ & Pope (Outer Banks)
Series: Someone Adopt This Boy Immediately [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1712983
Comments: 14
Kudos: 131





	You Are Broken On The Floor

**Author's Note:**

> #Title taken from 'Broken' by Isak Danielson. This is JJ's song and no one can tell me otherwise. There's some great JJ videos on youtube with this song.
> 
> #This fic falls into my series 'Someone Adopt This Boy Immediately' but it's not a sequel to The Truth Hurts, and is more a standalone 2-parter. I intend to continue with the series with sequels to The Truth Hurts as well as standalones.
> 
> #JJ is heavily concussed, hurt and in shock so if he appears ooc it is completely intentional. On with the JJ woobies...
> 
> #I have no idea what Barry's surname is. I'm not sure if it was mentioned or not, so if anyone knows then let me know and I will update fic, otherwise i'm just throwing in a random surname.
> 
> #Quotes taken from from various JJ-related scenes.
> 
> #Trigger warnings: This deals with the fall out of JJ taking the £25000, with the aftermath of JJ being tortured. Some non-con is featured/mentioned. Most of what happened is only implied in the first chapter but the 2nd chapter is highly likely to have flashbacks to what actually happened and the aftermath of it.
> 
> #In my head Deputy Shoupe is now Acting Sheriff (please we all know JJ will tease the shit out of him for having such an alliterative name. Just imagine a drunk, little shit JJ saying Sheriff Shoupe over and over again) and he accidentally falls into a parental role and Heyward accidentally-on-purpose-take-no-prisoners imposes himself into a parental role. JJ hasn't had a healthy father figure in a long time, so i'm gonna try and give him as many as possible.

Shoupe finds JJ two days after he was reported missing.

* * *

**_"You might end up in the lion’s den, but you don’t go there on purpose."_ **

“I think JJ’s in trouble,” Pope announces over breakfast.

Heyward lifts his head from the newspaper he’s reading and glances at his son across the table. Pope is furiously typing away at his phone, a frown on his face.

“Okay?” Heyward says, pulling the paper down further to study his son. “And why do you think that?”

“He’s not answering his phone,” Pope says, glaring at his own as though it personally offends him before dropping it next to his half eaten cold toast. “Or replying to my messages.”

“Maybe he's working?” Heyward shrugs. “He works at that fancy hotel, right?”

Pope nods, picking at his toast and crumbling it between his fingers, “But he’s not working. I went there yesterday. They said he can’t come in until the bruising on his face and the split lip have gone. Something about scaring off paying guests.”

Heyward nods and pushes the paper away, watching how Pope abandons the toast to bite at his nails.

“And I stopped by his place on the way back. He wasn’t there either.”

Heyward grimaces at that. JJ had stayed with them the first night, docile and quiet and _clingy_ and so unlike the energised little shit he always was. The next day, however, was another story, and he watched as the walls went back up and JJ reverted back to the smart-mouthed brat he was accustomed to. When Heyward had tried to sit him down to talk about the bruises, about the Phantom, about the situation he was in, as sensitively as he could, JJ had become defensive fast. _“I’m Fine, Mr H”_ the kid had insisted, _“I don’t need no one’s help,”_ and _“I got a place to stay. It’s all good.”_

It didn’t take a genius to know that 1. JJ was a liar, 2. attracted trouble like a moth to a flame, 3. had some serious issues and 4. Luke Maybank was one of those issues.

He’d even mentioned it to Shoupe the very afternoon after JJ had bolted. It had sickened him to his stomach to think that the kid might have returned home.

“I don’t want you going there,” Heyward says simply, hating the idea of Pope being so close to someone who he suspected could hurt a child as easily as he had done. “Especially now that Luke’s boat has gone.”

Pope winces and Heyward instantly regrets adding to his worry.

“He was out cold next to a bottle of vodka,” Pope says with a shrug, picking at his phone, swiping at something and muttering ‘just read your damn messages already’.

“I don’t care, Pope…” Heyward insists, voice hardening “Stay away.”

Pope’s phone vibrates then and he scrambles clumsily to pick it up before sighing loudly, another frown appearing on his face. He drops it heavily back to the table.

“That him?” Heyward asks, already knowing it isn’t by his son’s reaction.

Pope shakes his head. “Kie,” he says. “Asking me if I’ve heard anything from him. She’s worried too.”

“What about the Routledges? You guys spend most of your time there anyway.”

“No,” Pope says firmly. “The police have it cordoned off. It’s crawling with cops, no way is he going back there.”

Heyward hums in agreement but inwardly he’s worried too.

He remembers the bruising across JJ’s face, the split lip and ugly shading and graze to his cheekbone and mouth, and the utter stubborn defiance that radiated off the boy when Heyward insisted that things _weren’t_ okay. 

But above all, he remembers JJ’s eyes, and the utter pain and desperation that poured out of them.

_If JJ wasn’t at Big John’s, where was he?_

* * *

**_"You walk up to 'em, look 'em right in the eye, and...?"_ **

**_"Deny the living shit out of it."_ **

**_"That's right. Deny, deny, deny.”_ **

A few hours later, Heyward is certain that the ‘trouble’ Pope was referring to was more than just Luke Maybank’s poor parenting skills and his quick fists.

He watches as his son paces the house, top to bottom, in and out, biting his nails in between low, harried and whispered conversations with someone over the phone, Kiara, he presumes.

By lunch he closes the shop and has Shoupe sitting Pope down at the counter.

“What’s wrong? Has something happened to JJ? Is it his dad?”

Shoupe removes his sunglasses and sits down, Heyward moving off to the side to sit nearer to his son.

“I went to the Maybank's,” Shoupe says. “Luke’s not seen JJ since before the Phantom was taken.”

“Oh,” Pope deflates a little and Heyward thinks it’s a sorry day in hell to realise his son was actually thinking Luke Maybank was a better alternative to whatever trouble JJ was actually in. “So has he reported him missing then? Is that why you're here now?”

“No,” Shoupe shakes his head and glances at Heyward. “That would have been your dad.”

Pope turns a surprised look at him.

“But I’ve had some deputies looking for him since yesterday,” Shoupe continues. “Your dad called me as soon as JJ left.”

If Pope looked surprised before he looks downright dumbfounded now.

“You did?” he says, turning to look between the two of them.

“I’m worried too, son…” Heyward concedes. He reaches out and squeezes Pope’s shoulder. “And I want to help him.”

“I think JJ’s in more trouble than just his dad right now, kid…” Shoupe says. “And for us to help him I need to ask you some questions.”

Pope looks down then, fingers playing with each other, entwining together and then apart, and Heyward sees the nervous gulp his son gives.

“Pope-” Heywards says quietly, squeezing his arm once more.

“I don’t want to get JJ in trouble anymore than he already is,” Pope mumbles, still looking down.

It’s an admission of _something_ , at least, he thinks.

“I get that,” Shoupe nods. He places his hands on the counter, placatingly calm. Next to them lay an unopened manila folder. “You’re just trying to protect your friend.”

Pope continues looking down, avoiding both their eyes.

“Like JJ did for you,” Shoupe says.

Pope stiffens and glances up to look at Shoupe.

Shoupe responds with a nonchalant one shoulder shrug and Pope glances away from the both of them, his jaw twitching in tension.

“Can you not do that?” Pope hisses out.

“What?” Shoupe frowns.

“Use my moral compass against me?”

Heyward snorts and Shoupe smirks.

“How about I help you out?” Shoupe says instead.

Pope turns to look at the man, confusion over his face.

“I have a verified statement - _statements_ _and invoices_ \- that JJ purchased several items recently. A hot tub for one. A lot of party gear,” Shoupe pauses and studies Pope’s face. “Way too much for a kid from the cut could afford.”

He opens the folder and pulls one photo out. Slides it across the table, turning it around so Pope can see. Heyward sees how Pope’s eyes widen.

“That’s Barry Daniels,” Shoupe is saying. “Known drug dealer. Runs a shit show for a pawn shop, that’s sitting just on the wrong side of the law to be genuine. One of his workers was being a bit too loud about a blonde kid trying to sell a slab of gold. Sold her a sob story about his mom going crazy and melting down all her jewellery. That sound familiar to you?”

Heyward sucks in a breath. He’d never known the Maybanks well, even though JJ had been a constant, buzzing in and out their lives for as long as he could remember, but everyone knew the story of how JJ’s Ma had gone crazy in the head, and had thrown several household items into a makeshift bonfire, burning half the family’s clothes and all her jewellery she had owned. JJ, all of eight years old, had witnessed it. He’d remembered closing up shop that evening to find Pope and John B filling John-B’s already half-filled bag with a few of his own shirts and pants.

“She also claimed that her boss returned to work $25,000 less than he had the day before.”

_Shit, JJ, what did you do?_

Pope continues to stare at Shoupe. Anyone else would have thought he was being stubbornly stupid, but Heyward knew that this was his son trapped, frozen and unable to find his way out of whatever he and his friends had found themselves in.

“I’m not looking at JJ for anything that he might have done or not done,” Shoupe insists. “As far as I’m concerned, JJ hasn’t committed any crime - Luke Maybank isn’t a snitch and even with him high on drugs and booze, he knows not to bring the cops to his door for a boat he hasn’t used in years - and a piece of scum like Daniels is not going to report his missing drug dealing money, not if he doesn’t want the cops sniffing around, so I’m not wasting my time on a non-existent crime.”

He pauses.

“What I’m looking at is trying to find a vulnerable kid, who might be hurt and scared and unable to ask for help."

Pope takes a breath and then breaks, tears spilling.

“It’s my fault,” he whispers quietly, shakily swiping at his eyes. “JJ took the blame for Topper’s boat and his dad beat the shit out of him because of it. JJ was being reckless and angry and Barry came after us for the gold so JJ took his money instead.”

“For a damn hot tub?” Heyward asks. JJ was reckless, but he didn’t think he’d be that stupid.

“For _restitutution_ ,” Pope corrects. “But his dad tried to take the money to gamble. They got into it and had a fight when JJ tried to stop him. Worse than before,” he admits. Heyward sighs and looks down. He knew it was bad. He could _see_ it, but hearing it from his own son’s mouth was so much worse. “JJ was upset after. He got drunk and bought all that shit. He was out of it - high or drunk - when we found him and in a bad way,” Pope sucks in a breath. “I hadn’t realised it was that bad. I’ve never seen him cry before.”

Shoupe stands up with determination and gathers the folder into his hands.

“Thanks, kid.”

“We’ll find him,” Heyward tells his son. “We’ll bring him home.”

* * *

**_“I’m telling the truth. For once in my goddamn life. He’s a good kid. You know where I'm from?”_ **

Shoupe finds JJ two days after Heyward reported him missing. Four days after he’d been taken.

Shoupe spots him walking alongside the road like he’s stumbling home drunk , only as he slows the police cruiser down, he sees that the stumble is more of a result of the kid dragging one of his feet, blood smears staining his legs and his pants.

“Kid!” he shouts, darting out of the car when JJ makes no move to stop or even acknowledge the police cruiser stopped beside him.

“JJ!” he calls again but the kid just carries on limping away with no outwardly response. “Just stop already!”

Again the kid doesn’t stop and simply takes a few more stumbled steps.

“JJ Maybank!” he yells out, anger and worry making his tone sound harsh and hard even to his own ears. “Stop Walking!”

JJ freezes and Shoupe hurries up to him, rounding him and taking him by the shoulders.

“Christ, kid…” Shoupe hisses out, hand settling on his hair. JJ makes no move to pull away, eyes glassy as he looks past Shoupe as though he wasn’t even there. Like _JJ_ wasn’t even there. Shoupe knew enough about the kid to know that the instant he had touched the kid, JJ would have reacted defensively, but this current reaction was worrying - detached and numb, concussed or shell shocked. Maybe both? The last time he’d seen the kid, JJ had been like a wildcat, angry at his involvement in inadvertently pushing John B and the Cameron kid further into the storm.

Shoupe sees the knot to JJ’s temple, the blood staining his blonde strands. Eyes wandering down, he takes in the left eye, now badly swollen, his right eye completely bloodshot. His lip re-split, mouth and the surrounding area to the edge of his jaw swollen. He swallows his nausea when he sees the finger-like bruising shading the kid’s throat.

Eyes dropping he can see, with dawning trepidation, that the button to his pants are completely gone, seemingly ripped away, and the top is loose and bloodied, as though bloodied fingers had handled them.

Shoupe gently lifts one of JJ’s hands and studies them, letting the kid rest it on his palm. It stays there bonelessly limp as shoupe lifts a finger. On one hand alone he can see that the nails have been pulled - ripped away, leaving bloody and raw nail beds.

JJ’s hand trembles, fingers twitching slightly.

“JJ?” Shoupe asks. He slides a hand up and rests it against the side of the kid’s neck. “You with me?

JJ turns sluggish eyes towards him and frowns.

Without warning JJ drops heavily, Shoupe sliding to the ground with him.

“You’re okay,” Shoupe says, sliding an arm around him. “You’re safe now.”

JJ sucks in breath and before Shoupe knows what to do the kid is hyperventilating.

“You’re okay, you're a safe kid. I promise,” he insists. He’s acutely aware that he needs to calm the _fuck down himself_. Slow his own breathing and sound less panicked if he was going to get the kid to calm down too. “Slow your breathing down.”

“Don’t let them take me, don’t let them, don’t let them...” JJ gasps out, chanting in between breaths.

Shoupe grabs his radio.

“Dispatch, this is Acting Sheriff Shoupe,” he grounds out. JJ whimpers next to him. “I’ve located the missing Maybank kid.”

Static emits before dispatch responds.

“Copy that, Sheriff. What’s your location? Do you require a rig?”

Shoupe studies JJ. The kid was obviously concussed. He hadn’t just been beaten, he’d been _tortured_. He didn’t know how hurt the kid truly was and they weren’t too far from the local hospital. 

JJ whimpers again, shaking his head and starts to push weakly at Shoupe’s arm.

“No, don’t...” he begs. “Don’t let them. _Please_ don’t.”

“Shh, kid. You’re okay,” he murmurs quietly down to the top of the kid’s bloodied head, gently squeezing his arm in comfort. “Negative,” he says quietly into the radio, hoping it doesn’t reach the boy’s ears. “The kid’s freaked out enough as it is. Banged up pretty good too. We’re not too far away from OBH. I’ll take him. Makes more sense then waiting on a rig to get here.”

“Copy that, Sheriff.”

“Get me as many officers and units available out to patrol the immediate area,” Shoupe instructs them. He rattles off the area and directions to where he had located the missing boy. The blood under his palm had been tacky but still damp in some places. “Kid’s still bleeding a bit. Chances are he’s been somewhere in proximity to our location. I want whoever’s responsible found A-SAP,” Shoupe hisses. “And eyes on Barry Daniels too.”

“Copy that.”

Shoupe helps the kid up, wincing as JJ cries out in pain, hand flying to his side and Shoupe could kick himself for not checking earlier. He lifts the shirt slightly and feels himself pale just looking at the ugly, mottled bruising to the kid’s chest and torso. “I know, I know, kid… I’m just gonna help you into the car.”

He can tell that the kid’s knee is fucked up just by looking at it - red and swollen - and the most probable reason behind the obviously painful limp and small cries of pain that fall from his mouth as they stumble over to the car.

By the time Shoupe is back behind the wheel JJ is already curled up into his own seat, trembling, and Shoupe reaches out to rest his hand on the boy’s shoulder.

“Don’t let them,” JJ begs again. The way his words and breath catch Shoupe is certain that JJ is crying underneath the flop of hair and hidden face. “ _Please_ …”

“I won’t, JJ. I promise.”

* * *

**_“Look JJ, there are independent and dependent variables, and you’re an independent variable.”_ **

Dispatch put a call through to the hospital so there’s a small group of medics waiting for them. JJ flatly refuses to get on the stretcher that they try to usher him on to and practically pushes himself further into Shoupe’s side. He’s panicked enough for Shoupe to realise that forcing him wouldn’t get them anywhere, so he walks him into the emergency room instead, arm curled around him as the small group of professionals trail behind.

A nurse leads them into one of the main trauma rooms.

Shoupe manages to coral JJ up onto the bed but when he tries to step away to allow the doctor and nurse closer, JJ blindly reaches out, grabbing at his police issued jacket, and tugs.

“ _Don’t_ ,” he snaps, eyes wild and startled. This wasn't going the way Shoupe planned but if there was one thing Shoupe was certain of when it came to JJ, it was that the kid was still that wildcat and unpredictable at the best of times. The kid's voice sounds angry and bitter and it had been the most emotion he’s seen on his face since he’d found him. “Don’t _let_ them.”

“Hey, you’re okay. They’re just trying to help you,” he points over his shoulder at the waiting doctor and nurses. “You’ll feel better soon.”

His words sound weak and pathetic, even to him.

“Fuck you,” JJ hisses out. “Fuck them.”

Yeah, there was still some of the old JJ fighting spirit left in him.

JJ releases his hold and slaps one of the nurses hands away when she tries to comfort him, rolling away from Shoupe and curling into a ball again.

And as quick as the old JJ had appeared, it was gone, replaced with small whimpers and hiccuping breaths.

The nurse looks back at him and gestures him closer.

“He obviously trusts you,” she says. For the life of him he doesn’t know why. JJ had been right when he’d angrily accused him of forcing his friends into the storm. He _was_ responsible. It was his _fault_. Why the hell did the kid want his help now? “Stay with him until we have him more settled.”

He nods shakily at her and moves closer to the bed.

“I’m here, kid…” he says to JJ’s curled back. The kid doesn’t respond so Shoupe rests his hand on the curl of his back and strokes his thumb back and forth. “I’m staying.”

JJ doesn’t reply. Instead all he can feel is the kid’s continued trembling and hear his hitching breaths.

Every now and then JJ mutters “Don’t let them take me.”

_Them_.

  
And it dawns on Shoupe then that it might not _just_ be Barry Daniels that they were looking for.

* * *

tbc

**Author's Note:**

> Come find me on tumblr cuppachar.tumblr.com if you want to discuss hurt JJ and his need for a healthy father figure. I'm also open to suggestions, reqs or prompts for this series.


End file.
